I woke up on Tuesday, eight days after being asked to resign from my job, with the same feeling I get when I buckle myself on a rollercoaster. Anxiety is something I am not very familiar with and something that is not part of my depression, thankfully. But on that day I can say that I felt very anxious about seeing the lawyer from my teacher’s union. I felt like a criminal. Like if talking about my depression is a crime. I mean can I be punished for speaking about the truth? I was told by my principal that one of the reasons HR asked me to resign was because teen suicide rates are going up. What did that mean? Would I be liable if one of my students committed suicide? But don’t people tell you to take care of yourself first? That your mental health should be a priority? Well, some of these students were making my mental health worse! I put my foot down and told them I was not accepting that kind of behavior. Perhaps I should have asked my administration for help. But I’m someone who has trouble asking for help. Also, some of my administration at my last school were worthless and I also understand that they have their own jobs to do. I wanted to make sure that I had exhausted all my resources first. I had already tried moving students around, completely different seating charts, repeating and demonstrating instructions, practicing walking into the classroom quietly and orderly, and multiple shorter talks about my expectations and their behavior. I had not called parents yet but wanted to make sure I did that before I started writing students up.

Anyways, I make it to my teacher union’s office and after sitting in my car for about a minute, I walk across the parking lot and up the stairs into their lobby. I’m greeted by a receptionist and I informed her I am there to see my lawyer. When I’m waiting in the lobby, I am not feeling well. I feel like I’m probably going to cry. I’m glad my lawyer takes a while to call me back because it gave me some time to ground myself and feel more comfortable in the chilly environment. My lawyer finally appears and we exchange greetings. I followed him into the conference room. He explains that the district’s lawyers had conducted their investigation and he had reviewed their findings. He tells me the number of students they have investigated and reads me some of their statements. I feel like my lawyer is not on my side and there is a tone of judgment behind his words. Yes, I talked about my depression. Yes, I told my students I had suicidal ideations. Yes, I explained what the term suicidal ideations mean. Yes, I told them that I started “medication” in May and was feeling a lot better. (I did not tell my students nor my lawyer that my medication was lysergic acid diethylamide.) Yes, I told them that for some reason my depression was returning and I was feeling worse and that I did not know why. I felt like my lawyer thought these results would shock me, but it was consistent with what I had communicated with him in my previous emails. I guess people just don’t understand how it feels to live with depression and suicidal ideations. Every single day the thoughts are there. A megaphone next to your ear telling you to kill yourself. Eventually, you learn to ignore it. When the thoughts are so relentless, you learn to become immune to them. I guess I had just become so desensitized to the idea of suicide that I don’t see it as something that is taboo to talk about. I mean suicide is the second leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 10 and 34, and the fourth leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 35 and 54. We should be talking about it more.

“When the thoughts are so relentless, you learn to become immune to them. I guess I had just become so desensitized to the idea of suicide that I don’t see it as something that is taboo to talk about.”

I asked my lawyer how the district’s lawyer had conducted their investigation. Did they talk to each student individually? As a class? What kind of questions did they ask? Were those questions leading? Who was present when asking these questions? My lawyer couldn’t answer any of my questions. I asked him what my options were and he explained the entire appeal process. He said at no point was I able to tell my side of the story. He also said that because I had a provisional teaching certificate that they could terminate my contract for almost any reason and that I really didn’t have a case. He told me how much money the teacher’s union provides for expenses and all the timelines we needed to meet. If I choose to resign, the district would give me money so that I would not pursue this anymore. I told him that this wasn’t about the money. That I wanted to be back in my classroom. He told me that the district’s lawyers want to hear my decision by 1pm. I told him that I would think about it and contact him before lunch. 

I went home to think about it, but I already knew my decision. The writing was on the wall. I didn’t want to stretch this any longer. My depression was getting worse by the day. Even if I got my job back, I wasn’t sure if I could actually complete my contract. Plus, I would have to be cleared by a medical professional that I was fit to teach. Since I am my own doctor and LSD is a schedule 1 drug well let’s just say I would need to move to an alternate universe to even have a chance. Plus, I was still amazed that my condition has deteriorated so quickly. My sleeping schedule was all over the place now that I didn’t have to wake up for work. And all I could think about is all the work that was pilling up every single day that I wasn’t there. But most importantly, all of my kids now needed a new teacher and they don’t deserve to be in limbo with random substitutes. An hour later I attached my resignation letter to the e-mail I sent my lawyer. I still haven’t read the official statement that the district’s lawyer sent me through my lawyer. I just wanted everything to be over and hopefully, my depression would get better now that the stress from my job and the entire situation would be behind me. My depression got worse.

I decided that I wasn’t going to let this whole situation derail me. I continued with my keto diet since I had lost about 15 pounds. I continued going to therapy even though I eventually quit because I never revealed to her how much I was affected by our second session. I explained what happened with me losing my job, but kinda brushed it away. I also did not like her methods. I did my best to have a consistent sleep schedule, but I was not doing well. It didn’t take long for me to convince myself to stop microdosing LSD. This was the longest I had microdosed. Almost five consistent months. Maybe I was feeling worse because of the microdosing. Plus, I kept thinking about the bone marrow transplant and how I would have obviously stopped microdosing if I was a perfect match with the person. I wanted to see what would happen if I stopped. The next two and a half weeks were pretty fucking scary.

Within five days my depression was really close to the worst it has been. It is still hard for me to explain the stark contrast between my depression with and without microdosing LSD. The rope under my bed was calling out for me very loudly. I couldn’t control my mind from making plans on how I was going to kill myself. No matter how hard I tried to quiet my mind, the negative thoughts still penetrated my soul. I thought about hanging myself at the park walking distance from my house. I went on a walk one day to survey the different trees and structures at the playground. I felt that the park might be too public and I didn’t really want to cause trauma to anyone. However, I found a tree that looked easy to climb and was a little bit away from the sidewalk. I was not satisfied, though. Over the next few days, I found myself looking through google maps at the satellite images of the woods behind my mom’s house. There is a creek that separates my community and the community to the east of my mom’s house. The creek has another section that goes throughout the entire community. There seemed to be many little secluded areas that I never knew existed. I made plans to explore the area. The funny thing about depression is that at one point it gets so bad that you don’t even have the energy required to commit suicide. A lot of people commit suicide shortly after beginning SSRIs or other antidepressants, not because the drugs make you more suicidal, but because the person finally has the energy to put their plans into motion. Over the next week and a half, I found myself spending a lot more time sleeping and in my bed.

One day I woke up feeling restless and went into my fridge and took a swig out of my vodka/LSD solution. I had been sleeping a lot and wanted to feel something again. I probably took about 20ug on that day and immediately started feeling much better. I was still following my keto diet and noticed that my family had ordered pizza the previous night. I wondered why I was still following this diet if a very vocal majority of myself was making plans to kill myself. I warmed up a couple of slices of pizza and returned to my room. As I was enjoying the delicious carbs I had not had in almost three months, I started wondering if the diet had made my depression worse. There was a small part of me that was sure keto had made my depression worse in the past, but I refused to believe it. I had spent so much time praising and defending this diet over the past 8 or so years. It was the diet that helped me lose a lot of weight while in college. It was the diet that helped me get to my lowest weight since junior high when I lived in Korea. And it was the diet that had helped me start fitting into most of my clothes in the past couple of months. However, when I looked back into my past and the times I was the most depressed, I noticed that I was also doing keto during those times. That day I decided to quit keto and to start microdosing again. Within the week I started feeling like how I did back in June, before all the chain of events that lead me to the path I am on now. I am 100% certain that keto was the main culprit, especially with the problems I’ve had with my microbiome.

“As I was enjoying the delicious carbs I had not had in almost three months, I started wondering if the diet had made my depression worse. There was a small part of me that was sure keto had made my depression worse in the past, but I refused to believe it.”

Sometime in mid-October, I told my sister that I had found a lot of areas I wanted to explore in the community next to us and that we should take her dog on walks there. It was about a week since I started microdosing again and I was feeling much better. However, a small part of me was still looking for the perfect tree that might be my final resting place one day. Here is where I had my second “wtf moment” of 2019. About 3 minutes into our walk we notice a bench with a plaque next to it. The plaque had the name of a 32-year-old male with the suicide hotline number underneath it. I took a picture and made a small note of it. The three of us continued on our walk.

Over the next three months, I walked through all the different trails in that neighborhood and surrounding parks. I’d say that the entire trail in and around the area is easily six miles long, probably even longer if you include all the little trails that sprout out from the main one. The more I walked through all the different trails the more I loved the area. I’m part of an international running club and had been meaning to get more involved with the chapter in my area. In December, I volunteered to set a trail for my running group at this location. December 27, 2019, was the first day I officially started to scout the trail for my running group. There was this secluded area near the creek where the runners would have to cross. I wasn’t sure how deep the creek was in this area or if it was even possible. I decided to start my scouting in this area. I found the area to be a little slippery, but very manageable. I continued along the creek and into the wilderness. A few minutes later, I saw this blue mylar balloon stuck in the tree. I got this very eerie feeling in me like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t want to go back the way I went because I had traversed a lot of thorny vines and dense foliage. Plus, I knew that if I kept going forward I would run into the concrete trail/sidewalk. A few moments later I noticed what I thought was a lot of trash surrounding this group of trees. I started freaking out a little bit and approached carefully. I soon realized that it was a memorial for someone. I started tearing up immediately and looking more carefully at the different ornaments hung on the trees. After a couple of minutes, I followed the faint trail which I could only assume led to the concrete trail I was searching for. At the end of the path, I saw the same bench my sister and I had seen a few months back, but I had completely forgotten about it. I continued scouting the rest of the trail and when I returned home I googled his name to see if I could find out more about him. I found his online obituary and learned that he enjoyed running. That’s when I decided that I wanted to make his memorial part of my trail. The following day was when the idea for this entire project began taking fruition.

Right now, I have my depression under control. I regret not putting up a better fight against the school district where I was employed and the same district that I graduated from. I felt like they did me dirty. I would hate to see something similar happen to another teacher. I feel like I did the best job in those 11 days of being the type of teacher the junior high version of me would have been proud of. I tried really hard to make my classroom look nice and to create a culture that was safe for everyone. I spent a lot of time thinking about all the mistakes that I made during my first year teaching and how I was going to correct them. I was excited to be teaching math again and to be teaching kids again. The school also had a lot of alumni working for them, so it was nice to feel like I was giving back to the community and seeing old classmates. I have not discussed the entire situation with any of my real-life friends (I still have the same friends I went to high school with!). Well more like they never really asked me. If you know me, feel free to share this with anyone you know, but use your best judgment. Remember that I’m trying to remain as anonymous as I can with this project. There is also one more thing that I regret doing and I probably would have put up a bigger fight against the district if I had not said the following. During my 8th period class, I said the word “asshole” when describing the type of teacher I did not want to become. I regret saying that word, but when one of your students asks you why they should care about my problems…. Especially, when that particular student is the student causing the most stress to my mental well being… Well, I’m just not that good of a person.

This blog/project is dedicated to that man who lost his battle with depression. I feel like something or someone was guiding me to his memorial the day I found it. Remember, I am not a religious person at all, but I find it weird that on the first walk I take in that area I find the bench dedicated to him. Then, a couple of months later the first area I decided to scout I found his memorial. Depression robs you of your life. I feel like lysergic acid diethylamide is the best tool to fight it. It makes me angry that this drug is a schedule 1 drug. I am fucking proof that this drug works. There are thousands of stories like mine. They all need to be heard. This is for you R.G. May you rest in peace.